


Haunted

by Celinarose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 12:56:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celinarose/pseuds/Celinarose
Summary: Notes: For Dessie! I hope it wasn't too vague, since I don't usually write this kind of thing. I really hope you like it, though!





	Haunted

Hermione knocked on the door somewhat hesitantly. Something felt...wrong, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Harry had seemed different when he had Floo-called her earlier that day, asking her to visit. She just hoped he wasn't ill.

Her dread only grew, however, as she stared at the dark door, waiting for it to open. It did not. She cautiously placed a hand on the doorknob and pushed it. She didn't remember it ever creaking like that before. What really surprised her, though, was that the living room that lay beyond the door was pitch dark, which was very unusual. Harry never left it like that. Closing the door behind her, she lit up her wand with a whispered Lumos. It wasn't quite enough for the vast room, but it was better than nothing.

"Harry?" she called out softly. She heard no response directed to her, but a strange, scratching sound was coming fom one of the rooms. Hermione headed that way as quietly as she could, not knowing what to expect. Her grip on her wand tightened as she opened yet another door to reveal a dark room. She wondered if it was some sort of small animal or insect that had gotten inside the house, but she found something else entirely. There was absolute silence. Even the scratching stopped as she stepped inside.

By the faint light of her wand, she could make out a shaking figure huddled in one corner of the room.

"Harry?" she whispered again, this time with some amount of disbelief. The figure turned towards her and she lifted her wand closer to take a better look. What she saw made her step back again, with horror.

Her friend, or rather, what seemed to be a shell of him, stared at her with hollow eyes and a smile that sent chills down her spine. He looked, in a single word, deranged. The wall next to him bore marks of his madness. It was covered in bloodstains, from Harry's fingers which had apparently been scratching at it for a long enough time.

"You're here," Harry said, in a voice not quite his own, grinning widely. She shivered and took another step away from him, feeling his gleaming green eyes on her.

Hermione's Lumos suddenly went out, of its own accord, throwing her into darkness again.

"He wants me to hurt you." Harry's voice echoed off of the walls, making Hermione try to look around to find its source in the darkness.

"He?" she asked, trying to keep her voice and her mind calm. Her magic didn't seem to be working for some reason. "Who are you talking about? There is no one else here, Harry."

"NO! You're wrong. _He_ 's here. The Dark Lord."

"Voldemort?" She couldn't understand what he was saying or what he meant by it, but decided to keep him talking until she could find the door again.

"No, Hermione," Harry raised his voice slightly. " _The Dark Lord. Can't you hear him? I can. And he wants you dead."_

Hermione was suddenly very afraid, even though she didn't know what he meant. This could not be her friend, she realised. Harry had gone mad. He must have.

"Please, stop this Harry.," she begged desperately grasping for the door handle.

Harry chuckled.

"Goodbye, Mine," he said, almost in a sing-song manner. "Avada Keda-"

"NO!"

* * *

She awoke, safely on her bed, screaming, and covered in sweat. Eventually, her shrieks turned into sobs as she remembered what had happened that night. She still shuddered to think of what could have been, had Ron not showed up at the right time. Harry Potter was now in Azkaban, having spent years in the Janus Thickey ward and injuring quite a few Healers. No one ever figured out what was wrong with him, though the common belief was that everything he had been through had just made him insane. It didn't quite explain why Hermione's magic hadn't worked that night, though.

It was on nights like these, however, that Hermione truly felt helpless as she sat awake, staring through the open window and wondering how her best friend had become a ghost who haunted her.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: For Dessie! I hope it wasn't too vague, since I don't usually write this kind of thing. I really hope you like it, though!


End file.
